Orange Carrots and Rabbit Girls
by PrettyPleaseWithSugarOnTop
Summary: Ichigo is teaching his wifey how to drive? Rukia is getting driving lessons from her hubby? Everything is going to go wrong. Ichiruki drabble collection. Varying AUs.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Bleach, sadly. This is only one drabble that was inspired in my mind thanks to my very volatile moods! I'm considering writing random drabbles when my mood calls for whatever seems nice to me at the time. A lot of it is actually inspired from small unimportant things in my life. Throughout all the drabbles I might be using the same plotline of this first drabble, but not always. Still, if you guys like it, or don't like it, just let me know!**

* * *

_Capable_.

Rukia Kurosaki had always liked that word. When she had been Rukia Kuchiki she had been associated with that word more times than she could count. Being the adoptive little sister of the head of the biggest accounting firm in Japan might have helped with that. She herself was a very _capable _accountant, and her place in the financial industry was deeply valued. Her brother would have expected no less of her, of course. She, being the _ojou-sama_ of a prestigious family, had naturally used it to help boost her career, and was used to being served hand and foot all day. Despite that, she was certainly considered as capable, what with her amazing intellectual skills and her eloquence and highly ranked education.

Until she got married, of course. That was when things went amazingly uphill… and terribly downhill.

She was madly in love with her husband, of course, despite how different they were. Ichigo was… not a very wealthy man. He was not from a prestigious family, and since young he had learned to strive for himself and his relatives. The Kurosaki family was well-off, but certainly nowhere as rich as the Kuchiki Family. He was hot-headed, righteous, hardworking, and passionate. Things like _servants_ and _vast family fortune, _he scoffed at.

He'd carry his own weight, and his family's along with it.

The Kurosaki was no less intelligent than her, naturally. He studied harder than anyone, got into one of the top medical schools overseas in no time, and was well-known for his incredible intellectual prowess. Before long, he had ended up as a surgeon in the Karakura Hospital, with a trenchant respect for human life. Fiercely protective of his loved ones- everyone recognized that particular trait in him, despite the fact that his people skills were _terrible_ and that he was nowhere as eloquent as his wife when the situation called for it.

But to said wife's horror, she wasn't as capable as she had originally thought herself to be.

After marrying him, she had naturally moved into his house, which was, well, tiny compared to the Kuchiki Mansion. Rukia did not complain at all, for being by his side was more than enough for her, despite his badly concealed guilt. And then she realized…

She was incapable.

Sure, in her office, she was in her prime and could proudly raise her head high. She could bark orders at her subordinates and they had no choice but to obey. She was in charge there, after all.

Not at home, however.

Rukia had no idea how helpless she truly was until she had lived with Ichigo, also known as a place without her servants. Firstly, she simply wasn't as used to their absence as she thought she would be. The accountant had run out of times to count the occasions when she had unconsciously called the name of an imaginary servant to get her comb or some other random accessory for her. Ichigo had nearly died laughing during the first few times, but was quickly silenced when she swiftly kicked his gut. Later on, she had told him her plan to hire a maid.

"No way," Ichigo had said immediately, glaring at her with his fiery amber eyes.

She sighed in exasperation. "If it's about the money-"

"What? Do you really think I don't have the money for it?" He demanded, serving her the plate of steaming spaghetti for dinner, the sleek muscles of his toned arm rippling, "We don't need a servant, Rukia. We're fine on our own."

"Oh, come on," Rukia said hotly, although she was slightly distracted by the deliciousness of both her dinner and husband. "We're both busy people, Ichigo. I need to tend to the office and you to your patients. Having a maid would help us out a lot for the basic household chores."

"You're right when you say we're both busy people, Rukia," Ichigo snapped. She simply didn't understand what he was so agitated about. "I hardly see you enough as it is, and you want to add a maid to our home?"

Rukia's eyebrows shot up in comprehension, and her cheeks faintly went pink. "You're not saying-?"

Suddenly his hot breath was against the delicate shell of her ear, his lips grazing her skin, and she felt strong arms curl and wrap around her diminutive form possessively. "That's exactly what I'm saying," he whispered huskily, piercing golden against light violet, "This is _our_ home, Rukia. I refuse to have a stranger staying with us." With that, his mouth lowered over hers and he took her into a heated, passionate kiss.

Suffice to say, the spaghetti and plan were both forgotten for the night.

The second thing that had made Rukia upset was her inability to do many household chores. Ever since Ichigo had said that he would take over all household chores (the maid, he declared, had been completely unnecessary from the start), she knew she couldn't just sit there and let him do everything. He cooked their meals –and could she say his dishes were delicious- and did the laundry and mopped the floor, and this was excluding all his doctor's duties in the hospital, which could be more demanding than her accounting duties. Having been served by her servants all her life she simply couldn't cook. Ever since the one time she had attempted to boil water, tipped the kettle too much and burned her index finger, Ichigo had gone ballistic and banned her from the kitchen.

Which, Rukia had thought crossly, simply wasn't the right thing to do. He should have instead just taught her how to properly boil some water to prevent the same incident or worse from happening. And not to mention her pride had taken quite a blow at being incapable of even doing the simplest thing like cooking.

She had been given a rather new insight about Ichigo's mindset though when she had confided the issue to Karin during Christmas. Furtively eyeing the father and son shouting at each other over the dinner table, Karin had then turned to Rukia and said quietly, "Since our mum died, Ichi-nii's been… rather protective. I know you want him to teach you how to cook, and I think you're right to think that way, Rukia-nee, but Ichi-nii gets blindly protective sometimes, y'know?"

"Oh," Rukia had said faintly, realizing that she hadn't understood her husband as much as she'd liked. But then a lot of things weren't going her way, were they?

Karin abruptly grinned, breaking up the somber mood. "Well, if you want to cook, go ask Yuzu! She'll teach you anything you want to know. Who knows…" the girl leant forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, "You can surprise Ichi-nii by coming up with a dish one day!"

And so Rukia had followed Karin's suggestion and had gone up to Yuzu for some culinary lessons. However, another problem surfaced. Rukia was, after all, a busy woman and her working hours ate into the nights throughout the weekdays. The best time she had to go over to Ichigo's family home was in the weekends, and that was a no-no since Ichigo demanded all her time to himself throughout the weekend. If she wanted to surprise him with her very own dish, she would have to keep her lessons with Yuzu a secret, of course. Therefore suggesting that they go over to his old home to visit his family together over the weekend so that she could take lessons from his sister was not plausible.

There was only one solution, but with that solution came another problem. However, if she could overcome that problem, it could solve a lot of other things aside from successfully taking lessons from Yuzu.

Learning how to drive.

Rukia was, as mentioned before, an _ojou-sama_. Throughout all her life, should she declare the need to go anywhere, she would be sent along by her personal chauffeur. There was no need for her to drive, and so she had never felt the need to learn. Until now, that was.

The truth was, every night after she had finally ended work in the office, her husband would drive over and pick her up home. That very act of devotion never ceased to cause her heart to churn in guilt, knowing that Ichigo ended his shifts in the hospital extremely late as well, and driving the long distance from the hospital to the quarters of the Kuchiki firm just to pick her up was definitely a tiring endeavor. The hospital was far nearer to their home than her office was, and that meant he needed to drive the long and extra way just to get her. Too bad the subway was closed at night by the time she finished her work each day. What made her guiltier was how nonchalant he was about the whole thing, and how he didn't mind.

If she learnt how to drive, they could easily buy a second car just for her to use. With that, she was free to go anywhere she wanted without Ichigo driving her around, and anywhere included Yuzu's kitchen.

So naturally a rather victorious looking Rukia confronted her husband on a Saturday morning while he dressed for the day.

Ichigo was pulling on a long dark trench coat, his long jeans snugly fitting his sinuous legs and shirt freshly buttoned, when his wife bounced up to him. She waved something in her tiny fist like a trophy, her violet eyes blazing in excitement.

''What are you up to, midget?'' Ichigo demanded, his eyebrows knitting as he peered closer at the object in her hands.

It was his car keys.

Before he could comment about it however, a hard kick was sent to his thighs. ''Rukia!'' He yelped, jumping slightly back. It wasn't really painful, but out of habit he always reacted so.

She glared at him, her arms now akimbo. It was actually quite amusing, seeing the tiny woman looking so angry, but Ichigo knew better than to laugh. One kick might not have been painful, but more than that certainly was. ''Don't call me midget!'' Rukia snapped.

He clutched his leg, sending her a rather annoyed glare of his own. ''Get used to it. Now, do you mind telling me why my car keys are in your hands?''

''Oh yeah!'' Her face abruptly brightened, the anger in her features dying so suddenly he was a little alarmed. She shot him a grin wide enough to make the Cheshire Cat jealous. ''Teach me how to drive, Ichigo!''

He stared at her incredulously. ''You just kicked me, and now you want me to help you?''

She stared at him blankly, not understanding his point. ''Yeah?''

He sighed inwardly. Something told him he had to stop spoiling his already spoiled wife. ''Why do you want to learn, Rukia? Don't I always pick you up?'' The doctor was already making his way down the stairs gracefully, long legs shifting swiftly over the steps. His coat billowed behind him as he ran a hand through his tousled orange locks.

She followed him right behind, her stocking-clad feet bouncing on the stairs. ''I want to drive too, and get my own car! And I do know the basics of driving, because my chauffeur used to teach me a little, even though I didn't need to learn then.''

Her husband turned and sent her a hard, unreadable look. ''And you need to learn now?''

''Yes!'' Rukia insisted. ''You don't have to keep picking me up this way. Isn't it beneficial for both of us?''

There it was again, the unfathomable expression on his face. ''Well, I'm not teaching you, Rukia. Now pass me those keys, we need to get to Dad's brunch before he flips out.''

''No!'' She snapped, a sulk forming on the side of her lips. Why had she gone to Ichigo again? She had tons of friends who could drive, and her husband was being annoying and stubborn as usual. Still, now that she had asked him, her pride wouldn't allow her to back down. ''I'm not passing you the keys until you agree to teach me.''

He looked at her pointedly. ''Do not make me go over there, Rukia. Pass it to me now.''

Oh, how she despised that authoritative tone. There was no way she was going to back down now. ''Oh yeah?'' She mocked, waving said keys in her hand, ''Come and get it then, you jerk.''

His eyebrow flew up, and before she knew it he was onto her, one large calloused palm holding her shoulder in a death grip, and the other hand wrenching the keys from her flailing fingers. The musky waves of his cologne drifted past her nose. Rukia let out an angry squeal as he easily wrestled her prize from her, the sound of keys tinkling almost triumphantly.

''Give it back, Ichigo!'' She yelled, running after him as he stalked off. ''I took it first!''

He snorted. ''And a fat lot of good that did you.''

She continued dashing after him as they made their way to their car, which was parked in the garage. To her annoyance, he simply held the keys high above her reach -damn his stupid height- as he locked the door of their house with the house keys. It was so humiliating, having him stand there calmly while she leapt vigorously about for the keys in his hand.

''Give it to me!'' She screamed, her small hand whipping desperately. ''I warn you, Ichigo, I'm not getting into the car until you let me drive!''

He looked exasperated. ''Do you want to learn that badly?''

Again, she displayed her creepy mood swings by flashing a sugary smile at him. ''Of course, darling,'' she said sweetly. ''After all, I might get really distraught if you don't teach me, and whoosh, there goes our bed activities!''

Ichigo twitched at her sugar-coated threat. Somehow those threats freaked him out more than the ones she made when she was openly angry. ''Just shut up, okay?'' He snapped, striding to the car.

She watched him in surprise as he unlocked the car and opened the door to the passenger seat. The man turned his head impatiently at his wife's motionless figure. ''What are you waiting for?'' He demanded. ''Didn't you say you knew the basics of driving? Get your ass here!''

Breaking into a grin, Rukia pulled on her boots and scampered off to the driver's seat, the rubber roles of her shoes scratching against the gritty ground. She pulled herself over the seat, grimacing as she realised the problem...

''Ichigo! My feet can't reach the pedals!'' She shouted, her legs kicking wildly.

''Then adjust the seat, midget.'' His words ended off with a yelp as she kicked his shin. Her feet could still reach his legs, apparently.

The woman did as instructed, adjusting the seat forward. Her huge eyes were glimmering in excitement as she peered at the windshield.

''Now,'' Ichigo said, having somewhat recovered from the kick, ''Put on the seatbelts. You said you know the basics right?''

She nodded, fastening her seatbelt. He threw her the car keys, fastening his own. Rukia slid the keys into the ignition, and smoothly turned it.

The car started with a loud rumble, and she felt her nervousness mount slightly upon feeling the steering wheel tremble beneath her hands.

''Left foot on the clutch, and your right on either the gas or brake,'' Ichigo instructed, eyeing her from beside her. ''Hey! What are you doing?''

She was plastering a huge Chappy sticker on the steering wheel. ''For luck,'' she replied enthusiastically, putting her sticker pad back into her handbag and stowing it to the back seat.

''Rukia!'' Ichigo thundered, his amber eyes glowering. ''Don't destroy my car!'' He whipped out his hand to tear the stupid thing off but she grabbed his arm, violet irises glowing menacingly.

''If you take that off,'' she said in a deadly quiet voice, ''I'll never let you into our bed again.''

He relented, his heart weeping silently at the loss of his once respectable car. If Ishida saw this, he could say goodbye to his manly ego.

Pleased that she had gotten her way (as usual), she beamed at no one in particular.

''Okay,'' Ichigo said grumpily, ''Set the car into first gear, and slowly let off the clutch.''

She obeyed, her foot easing off the pedal quickly, one hand clutching the gearstick. The car began to roll forward.

''You idiot!'' Ichigo shouted. ''I said, slowly let off-''

The car choked, the tires bouncing as it came to a stop, engine dying. They jerked in their seats, just barely falling off thanks to the seatbelts.

''What happened?'' Rukia demanded, not quite understanding her latest failure.

''You let off the clutch too quickly, you idiot! The car stalled!''

She punched his lean shoulder this time, and he flinched, glaring at her.

''This is my first time so cut me some slack, will you?'' She yelled, starting the engine again. Inside, she was irritated at herself for making a mistake. She was supposed to be naturally skilled at things!

The woman slowly repeated her actions once more, and this time she made sure to ease her foot off the clutch as slowly as she could.

''That's good,'' Ichigo commented, peering down her shapely leg with an appreciation that did not just extend to her driving skills. ''Don't let off too fast.''

The car began to move, and she swelled in pride at herself, pleased at her progress. She wasn't that bad after all. So happy with herself, she didn't notice that the car was beginning to slow down.

''Rukia!'' Ichigo shouted in alarm. ''The gas! Step on it!''

''Wha-'' It was too late. With another strangled groan, the car halted, engine grunting to an end.

''Why is this happening?'' Rukia yelled in frustration.

''It's because you're not paying enough attention!'' Ichigo retorted. He jabbed an accusing finger at the wheel. ''So much for luck, that damn sticker is useless! Just do what I say, and you'll get it, okay?''

She stared daggers at him. ''I _am_ doing what you say!''

''Well, you're not doing it well enough!''

''Maybe _you're_ not teaching me well enough!''

''You were the one who came to me for lessons!''

''Because I didn't know you'd yell at me so much!'' With that, Rukia gave a loud, injured sniff, and Ichigo knew he'd lost the argument.

''Okay, okay,'' he said warily. ''I'm sorry.'' What was he apologizing for, anyway? He wasn't the one who had caused the car to stall twice. ''Forgive me?''

She gave another noisy sniff. ''I'll think about it.''

He sighed. ''Start the engine again. This time, remember to release the clutch slowly _and_ step on the gas.''

* * *

It took about a few million tries before they so much as left the garage. The couple was definitely going to be late for Isshin's brunch, but somehow Ichigo had already been resigned (and relieved) about that.

''I don't get it!'' Rukia snapped in irritation, the car moving in a snail's pace along the streets. Other cars zoomed past them freely, dust billowing, and Ichigo watched them enviously. Meanwhile, his wife's fingers clutched the wheel so tightly to the point that her knuckles were white. ''Why would anyone want to drive a car? It's a torture chamber!''

''No, it's not,'' Ichigo said patiently, his arms crossed across his chest, ''You just need to get used to it.'' He didn't bother telling her that he had gotten used to the car's controls after only a few tries during his first time years ago. The doctor did not want a car accident on his hands.

''How does one get used to it?'' Rukia demanded disbelievingly. The car swerved dangerously as her hands trembled with emotion on the wheel.

''Hey! Stay in the same lane!'' Ichigo exclaimed, his gold eyes wide in horror. ''You'll crash into something at this rate.''

She was still clutching the wheel tightly, eyes large as she stared ahead, shoulders drawn and tense. He almost chuckled at the sight, amused by how cute she looked about it.

''Ichigo,'' she called hysterically, not taking her eyes off the wheel, ''There's a car moving into the same lane in front of us! What do I do? What do I do? Should I stop the car?''

''No, Rukia,'' Ichigo grinned, revealing rows of white teeth at her panic. ''You slow down the car. Remember to change gears when you do that.''

''But the car behind us,'' Rukia trembled, sweat breaking out above her brow.

''Slow down slightly,'' Ichigo replied, shaking his head in amusement.

She nodded, eyes peeled on the car behind her from the side-mirror, her breathing uneven as she maneuvered the gearstick, right foot on the brake.

''Rukia! The clutch!'' Ichigo shouted, suddenly not so entertained anymore.

The car screeched to a halt, but thankfully it had been so slow in the first place that the car behind quickly swerved to another lane before it could crash into their car.

The passengers of the car violently jerked in their seats, chests slamming against the firm belt.

Ichigo grunted in annoyance, his hand rubbing his chest. He turned to his wife only to see her whimpering.

''Rukia!'' He shouted, irritation fading immediately as he grabbed her hand in concern. ''Are you okay?''

She glared at him, eyes watering. ''You're such a lousy teacher!''

What?

He watched disbelieving as she tore her hand off his and started the engine again for the millionth time. Inwardly, she was seething at herself for making the most stupid mistake in the book. Who would actually forget to hit the clutch when they changed gears? It was so ridiculous she wanted to weep. Truthfully she had been too distracted by the car's surroundings to remember. There was just so much she had to do!

''You're a terrible teacher,'' she ranted, shooting a quick accusing glance at him as she began driving again. ''You should have- you should have known I would forget to press the clutch!''

Ichigo's jaw dropped. ''How the hell would I have known?''

''Don't ask me, you're the teacher, not me!''

''Yeah, a _teacher,_ not a psychic!''

''Don't make excuses for your incompetence!''

''I should be the one saying that to you!''

Her head flung towards him, and he flinched, knowing he had said the wrong thing. Her eyes were beginning to tear up again, and he winced as her lower lip trembled. ''Did you just call me incompetent?''

''No,'' he said hastily. Somehow, thanks to Rukia Logic, it was just okay for her to call him that, but not the other way around. The car swerved slightly as her hands jerked on the wheel. ''No, of course not. You're doing well, baby.''

His eyebrow arched as a delighted grin stretched her lips abruptly at his words. Her mood swings were starting to really creep him out. ''That's so cute!'' She crooned.

Wait, what?

He turned his head around in the direction of her gaze and his jaw sagged at the sight of a little girl carrying her pet rabbit outside the shops.

Ichigo glared at his wife. ''Rukia, focus!'' He barked.

It was too late. The car bucked and ended up shooting off towards the curb when she released her hands on the wheel to take a closer look at the rabbit. Their bodies rocked violently like helpless puppets in their seats as other cars swerved to avoid them. The screeching of tires reverberated noisily in the air.

A few seconds later, their car came to a stumbling stop against the side of the pavement.

''Rukia!'' Ichigo reached out fearfully for his slumped, motionless wife. Her head was bent over her chest, the dark locks obscuring her face. He shook her shoulder gently, but she did not respond.

''Excuse me, sir.'' A cool voice interrupted his panicked state, and he looked up slightly to face a policeman standing disapprovingly by the car window.

''Might I have a word with the driver, and also to take a look at her driving license?''

Ichigo grimaced. Couldn't the stupid asshole of a policeman tell that there was something wrong with his beloved Rukia? The doctor gently lifted his wife's hand to take her pulse...

Only to jump when her face rose into sight, revealing huge, tearful mesmerizing violet eyes and trembling, delectable lips. The inspector's face turned pink at once upon seeing her visage.

''Oh, sir,'' she simpered sweetly, eyelashes fluttering, and she stuck out her bottom lip sadly, ''I can't seem to find my license anywhere...''

* * *

An hour later found Ichigo driving the car and Rukia resting her head in satisfaction against his shoulder from where she sat in the passenger's seat.

''Now this is more like it,'' Ichigo said, grinning. The car sped down the road swiftly, and no, it did _not_ stall.

She punched his arm. ''Stop insulting my driving.''

''That's not what I meant,'' he said, leaning down to kiss her head. ''I'm just saying we're each doing things we're good at. And we should stick that way.''

She straightened up to stare at him. ''And what am I good at? Leaning against your shoulder?''

''Oh, do you really need to ask?'' Ichigo waggled his eyebrows. ''It's thanks to someone that we didn't get fined.''

Rukia grinned at the recent memory. ''I know. I was great at convincing him not to fine us.''

''Though it was also thanks to you we nearly got fined in the first place,'' he quipped, hands still on the wheel. It took everything he had not to look at the hideous sticker leering at him.

She glared at him. ''Don't praise me if you're just going to insult me later!''

He sighed. ''My point is, Rukia, you don't have to keep trying so hard. You're, ah, good at ah, people skills and I'm not. And you can't drive.''

She considered punching him again. ''I _said _to stop praising me if you're gonna insult me later!''

He rolled his eyes, and this time that earned him a punch. ''Why did you want to learn to drive that badly anyway?''

There was a short pause, and she didn't look at him for a while. Then she said, ''Don't you find it tiring to pick me up every night after work, Ichigo?''

He raised his eyebrows. ''Is that what it was all about? Rukia...''

''I figured if I learned to drive,'' she continued, as if he hadn't spoken, ''Then I could buy myself a car and drive myself home every night. I didn't want you to tire yourself out. You have patients who need you, after all.''

He gripped the gearstick, and pulled the car to a stop by a tree. She admired the way he effortlessly switched gears, with an appreciation that certainly did not just extend to his driving skills. He switched off the engine, and turned to her, a serious look in his amber eyes.

''Rukia,'' he spoke quietly, ''Do you realise that aside from weekends we barely see each other as it is?''

She nodded reluctantly.

''And every weekday, I drive you to work in the morning,'' he continued, ''and then we separate all the way until late at night. If I don't pick you up, will we ever even talk to each other since the first thing you do when you reach home is snore into the bed?''

She wanted to protest that she didn't snore, but decided not to ruin the moment.

''I want to pick you up,'' he pressed on. ''It makes me happy. It makes me feel like your husband.''

Before he could continue, she had thrown herself over him and was kissing him hard. He held her to him protectively, large palms pressing into her back as his lips moulded passionately against hers.

''So does that mean we can remove the sticker now?'' He asked in mid-kiss.

''No.''

He groaned against her mouth, and she abruptly pulled away. ''What happened to your dad's brunch?''

''Shit!''

She smiled, before pulling Ichigo into another kiss. Yuzu and her cooking lessons could wait for now.

* * *

**Haha like I said this is a really light-hearted drabble, I guess. Tell me if you like it or if you'd want more. **

**Reviews make me happy!**


End file.
